Plucking a leaf from the famous oak and a sprig from the vines of Eshcol, we mounted our horses, and in less than an hour reached the ruins of Remit el-Khulîl, the house of Abraham. Occupying the summit of a mountain ridge, from which the blue waters of the Mediterranean were distinctly seen, they consist of massive stone walls, of rounded columns now broken, of arched vaults now in ruins, and of a noble well hewn out of the solid rock. The two remaining walls are constructed of well-dressed stones, measuring fifteen feet in length, and are in good condition. The wall facing the south extends east and west 290 feet, while the other, running at right angles with the former, is 160 in length. The well is a perfect circle, with a diameter of ten feet. Its sides are faced with smooth dressed stones, from out the joints of which exquisite ferns were growing. The water is deep, clear, and sweet, reflecting the sun by day, and the moon and stars by night. An unsolved mystery still hangs over the ruins of Remit el-Khulîl, if ruins they be. Their founder and their age are alike unknown. The Jews point to them as marking one of the halting-places of Abraham; the Latin fathers of church history ascribe them to Constantine the Great; while others attribute them to some unknown person, who would have reared for himself a castle and a palace, but was unable to finish the designed plan.
Resuming our journey, in half an hour we passed on our right a mosque, whose solitary minaret rose gracefully in honor of the Prophet Jonah, while to the left, a mile beyond, was a crumbling tower with pointed arches, and near it an immense fountain, where shepherds were bathing. On either side of the road were excavated tombs, now the haunt of the hyenaand jackal.The mosque probably marks the site of Halhul, and the tower the site of Beth-zur, enumerated by Joshua as among the cities of Judah.[372] Fifteen miles to the north from Hebron the valley of Urtâs crosses the road at right angles, and to the right of the highway are the celebrated Pools of Solomon. To these, and to the lovely gardens which once environed them, he refers in Ecclesiastes, ii., 5, 6: “I made me gardens and orchards, and I planted trees in them of all kinds of fruits. I made me pools of water, to water therewith the wood that bringeth forth trees.” Nowhere in the environs of Jerusalem could the wise king have attained the consummation of his wishes to greater advantage than here. Under the horticultural care of a Christian Jew, the valley of Urtâs has been transformed into a charming garden. What were once rocky hills are now terraced from base to summit, covered with olives, figs, and almonds, while in the bed of the valley are grains and grasses, flowers and vegetables, growing in rich abundance. With his inexhaustible resources, what a scene of beauty must the vale of Etham and the neighboring hills have presented in the days of Solomon’s strength and glory! But Time, that inexorable destroyer of human works, has effaced every trace of his wonderful genius save the pools that bear his name. Both history and tradition point with unmistakable accuracy to the imperial founder of these great fountains. With his accustomed love of detail, Josephus refers to the rivulets and gardens of Etham, situated fifty stadia to the south from the Holy City, whither Solomon was wont to retire for rural delights; and the Rabbins, with even greater minuteness, describe the aqueduct which conveyed the waters of Urtâs to Jerusalem.
URTÂS.
These pools consist of three immense reservoirs, situated in a straight line one below the other, and so constructed that the bottom of the first is higher than the top of the second, and the second than that of the third. They are in part excavated in the rocky bed of the valley, and in part built of square hewn stones covered with cement, and are entered by stone steps excavated in the rock. Measuring 380 feet in length, 236 in breadth, and twenty-five in depth, the upper pool is the smallest of the three. A hundred and sixty feet to the east is the middle pool, which is 423 feet long, thirty-nine deep, and varies from 160to 250 wide. Two hundred and forty-eight feet farther east is the lowest and largest reservoir, being 582 feet in length, from 148 to 207 in width, and fifty feet in depth, and, when full, capable of floating one of our largest men-of-war. The eastern end of the lowest pool is supported by immense buttresses, in one of which is a chamber, and in the north wall of the first tank is a filter—a wise precaution. Forty rods to the northwest, in an open field, are the perennial sources of these great fountains. Twelve feet below the surface are two vaulted chambers, the larger of the two being thirty-seven feet long and twenty wide. Springing up at four different places through the bottom of these chambers, the water is conducted by little ducts into a large basin, from which it flows through a subterranean canal to the northwest corner of the first pool, where it is divided, a portion of it flowing into a deep vault near the old castle, and thence being conducted into the first pool, while the remainder is carried by an aqueduct along the hill-side, which is so arranged as to send a portion of its water into the second and third pools, and then, descending rapidly, joins the aqueduct leading from the lowest pool, from which point the water is conducted, via Bethlehem, by a sinuous channel to Jerusalem. I know not which to admire more—the genius of the architect that conceived such a complicated work, or the public spirit of the king who supplied the means for its execution. The original design was to supply the Holy City with pure cool water, and also the Temple service, which demanded such large quantities. And to obtain a constant and unfailing supply, these tanks bore to each other a mutual relation. When the fountain yielded more than was necessary, the surplus was carried into the pools, and when the yield was not equal to the demand, the deficiency was supplied from the pools themselves.
The wind blew hard from the northwest as I traced up the hill-side the ancient aqueduct, repeating those impressive words of the great proverbialist, “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” Like the melancholy strains of a dirge, the winds moaned as they swept round the mountain brow, and the waters sighed as they languidly fell from pool to pool. Was it not the requiem of his departed glory? A solitary descendant of his mighty kingdom now grubs a living where once his royal gardens stood, of whose beauty he sang in all the tenderness of the Canticles; and the robber of the desert and thewild Bedouin of the hills now bathe in those fountains which once sent murmuring streamlets along verdant banks and flowery beds, and supplied the imperial table with the cooling beverage.
SOLOMON’S POOLS.
The aqueduct is constructed of red earthen pipes, covered, for protection, by common limestone flagging. In many places the flagging is removed and the pottery broken, to accommodate the traveler with water. To preserve a proper level, it sweeps around the hills and heads of the valleys; and, though fatiguing to follow its windings, it repaid the toil, as illustrating the fact that, while the ancients could construct the most complicated works of masonry, they were ignorant of the simple method of conducting water over a level higher than its source. Having followed the aqueduct two miles, we crossed the wild valley of Ta’âmirah, and reached Bethlehem in time to enjoy a Christian wedding. Ten pretty maidens had assembled at the door of the bride, and were singing a simple but sweet melody, accompanied with the clapping of hands. Unlike the music of the Moslems, there was a warmth in these bridal songs thrilling and joyous. From a scene so happy we passed through the town, and, a mile from the ancient gateway to the northwest, we came to the tomb of Rachel.“And they journey from Bethel; and there was but a little way to come to Ephrath; and Rachel died and was buried in the way to Ephrath, which is Bethlehem. And Jacob set a pillar upon her grave; that is the pillar of Rachel’s grave unto this day.”[373] The pillar reared to the memory of a beloved wife has given place to a small white square building, surmounted by a dome. It is a Mohammedan wely. Standing by the side of the great road from Jerusalem to Hebron, the site has never been lost, its identity never questioned. Jew, Christian, Moslem, equally revere it, and never pass it without some token of affectionate remembrance. Gathering a few wild flowers growing near the dust of Rachel, we resumed our journey toward Jerusalem. In half an hour we reached the convent dedicated to Elijah, called Mâr Eliâs, and here came upon the new and noble macadamized road, extending from Bethlehem to Jerusalem, constructed by the monks of Mâr Eliâs, which is the first of the kind in Palestine, since the construction of a similar road by the French, running from Beîrut to Damascus. The wind had increased to a tornado as we swept by the Plain of Rephaim. It was the last object of Biblical interest to heighten the joy of a long and interesting tour. Stretching from the rocky brow of Hinnom to the Convent of Elias, it gradually declines to the narrow Valley of Roses. A mile in length, it is one of the richest plains in the Holy Land. It is remarkable in sacred history as the camp of the Philistines in the days of Saul, and as containing a mulberry-grove, now gone,in the tops of the trees, of which David heard a “sound of a going,”[374] which to him was the signal of war and the pæan of victory.